Coming Around Again

26 Ramadhan, 1440

The day was always going to be an anti-climax after the annual exchange of cards which marked its real beginning. How splendid to begin with a reminder of the one thing I know I got right in my long and winding history. How fine it is to be able to rely upon that firmness that makes my circle just.

Oxymoronical

25 Ramadhan, 1440

Just been marking an essay from May's IB examination session in which a candidate describes two novels as boringly interesting. Spent a minute or so trying to figure out the implications of this happy phrase. I reckon the poor kid had to put up with a teacher insisting that the books the kid felt had been specifically designed to torture him or her were interesting. That must have felt like the turn of the screw. But what an elegant revenge!

Not So Much

24 Ramadhan, 1440

Weighed myself earlier this evening and discovered I'm now some 2 - 3 kgs lighter than what I'd regard as my fighting weight. Mind you, this was towards the end of a day of fasting, so I doubt this reflects my 'real' weight at this point in time. But having said that, going off previous experience I'm likely to shed a bit more in the final week of fasting. Since I'm already lighter than I was when I was 17 this seems to imply a new version of my adult self.

Mind you, the biscuits for Raya are accumulating in the background so a return to the volume of my old self is definitely on the cards for June. In the meantime I suppose I should get on with enjoying a newfound lightness of being.

Familiarity

23 Ramadhan, 1440
 
At sahur I drink a mug of milo and a glass of water. No more; no less. Years of experience of doing so have informed me that the fluid taken on board will get me through the day. It's one of the few things I know for sure about myself in that it's worked for me so far.

So much else about myself remains a mystery, which fasting won't solve, but may, possibly, shed some small light on.

Dragging On

22 Ramadhan, 1440

In the tougher moments of fasting you can start to think the process does seem to drag on a bit, especially when you hit the final third of the month. However, a certain consolation is to be gained from remembering just how long the Brexit process, if that's what it can fairly be termed, has dragged on whilst offering no comparable rewards.

Noi was genuinely perplexed the other evening when I explained to her that nothing whatsoever had been resolved with regard to the UK's position re Europe. She was rightly astounded having vaguely assumed that, since she'd not been hearing so much about it when we didn't leave in March/April, despite the stated deadlines, that it was sort of all over. No it's not, I'm afraid.

But fasting will reach a rewarding conclusion, God willing, in a bit more than a week, which is part of the point of the experience. It's something definite, with a shape and an outcome - one genuinely worth waiting for.

Not So Great Expectations

21 Ramadhan, 1440

Felt a fair few aches and pains today and needed the assistance of a chair for the early sets of prayers. I suppose this is related to yesterday's exercise, but I can't say I regret keeping myself moving. Indeed, that's how I tried to cope with the aforementioned aches in the course of the day and I'm happy to report they didn't turn out to be overly debilitating. Mind you, I'm looking at a very busy week ahead and I'm not so sure I won't be struggling through tomorrow. But I never expected this Ramadhan to be easy, and certainly those expectations have been fulfilled. (Though today's struggle had little or nothing to do with the actual fasting, it's worth reminding myself.)

Hauntings

20 Ramadhan, 1440

I read an article the other day in which the writer was talking about feeling the need to eat a tub of ice cream whilst binge-watching Game of Thrones. I found it difficult to relate to the idea, I must say. As far as I can remember I've never eaten a whole tub of ice cream and I've certainly never watched an entire episode of the programme in question.

But I did wake up today (for the second time, after going back to bed following the Dawn Prayer) with a very distinct desire to drink a cup of tea before starting work for the day. The feeling lasted all of thirty seconds and faded. And just before going to the gym this evening I recall thinking that I didn't feel in much of a mood to do so, a thought that faded almost as soon as it manifested.

At one time I believed that desires similar to those above would extinguish themselves with time, become entirely unreal. I don't think that now. They are still there, but unless we actively feed them they become much less real, they seem to belong less to us. I'm guessing that the poor guy haunted by ice cream has never quite found that out, unfortunately for him. It's a deeply useful discovery to make.

Mything Out

19 Ramadhan, 1440

I wasn't optimistic about getting much reading done in this fasting month, and rightly so. I reckoned I was likely to be busy to the point of being overwhelmed by the usual stuff of work and that has proved to be the case. So I didn't plan any Islamic-themed reading. But I have felt a lack in that area such that I'm thinking of making a definite effort to compensate when I get some time off in June.

Another factor in my deliberate lack of planning has been the extremely slow progress I've been making on my 'ordinary' reading. Essentially this has been focused on Joseph Campbell's Creative Mythology, the final volume in his Masks of God sequence. I felt that to put this to one side would prove disastrous in terms of forward momentum and so have been soldiering on in little bits and pieces. I suppose that Campbell's concerns with what might broadly be termed the spiritual element of our experience lends some connection to the concerns of the holy month, but these are tenuous at best.

The problem I'm finding with Campbell's work is a kind of deadening repetitiveness. He's good on Joyce, Mann and Wagner, but the frequent rehashes of Arthurian legend are not doing a lot for me. I had quite enough of that with Mallory, thank you. In fact, I think I'm done with any kind of mythologizing, for now, at least.

Powering Up

18 Ramadhan, 1440

Got to the gym again today, after breaking the fast. Found a bit more energy than was available to me last Sunday, on my previous visit. Not sure where it came from, but very glad to have access to it.

Now more than two decades older than when I began fasting, I find I can't take it for granted that the energy to keep going will come from somewhere. I've noticed over the last three years that the degree of listlessness I sometimes experience in Ramadhan can be quite marked even in the second half of the month, something I don't remember experiencing in quite so obvious a fashion years ago. I'm not talking about any sort of consistent feeling, just an occasional one, but strong enough to have to pay attention to. Ironically the busier I find myself at work, the better. That sense of lassitude is not a feeling I ever take to the classroom.

Good Taste

17 Ramadhan, 1440

I'm trying to think of something, anything that tastes as good as teh tarik, as prepared by the Missus, consumed from a little flask in the couple of hours after breaking the fast, whilst performing a duty. (Hence, the flask.) And I can't.

Just saying.

Surplus To Requirements

16 Ramadhan, 1440

We're careful with food generally, and especially so in the fasting month. Careful, that is, to avoid putting too much on the table. There's a temptation to do so, but we've learnt to resist it. It's a hoary old cliché, and, like most such clichés, it's old and well-worn since it's deeply true, that to waste food in a world in which so many are deprived is contemptible. But we've thrown some out tonight, and this, I suspect, will happen again before the month is out.

We live in a place of surplus in what for us is an age of surplus. It seems that in these circumstances waste cannot be helped. Maybe so, but the experience of fasting is a useful reminder that what we take for granted should not be taken for granted. Guilt is one of the most useful of all emotions, if it can become the basis of something helpful to others. Something to work at, there.

Doing Nothing By Halves

15 Ramadhan, 1440

Noi started her biscuiting in earnest today. She was wondering out loud if she would be able to get everything done in time for the end of Ramadhan and it occurred to me that, as usual, she'd lost count of the days. She always underestimates the number of days gone by, happily losing herself in the experience.

In stark contrast I'm entirely aware we're at exactly the halfway mark since, as usual, I'm rather pathetically counting the days down. I used to think that eventually I'd rise above doing so - but that superior self has yet to emerge. Let's hope the inferior self maintains strength and direction in these testing days to come, indeed beyond the limits of this special month.

Busy Doing Something

14 Ramadhan, 1440

I can't honestly say this has been a day of achievement, but I did get to the gym after breaking the fast, which was a small something. Actually I struggled there just now in a way I didn't do a week earlier, in my first session of all-out exercise in the fasting month. I just wasn't able to make it for a second time during last week, being so busy in the evenings, and I suppose I've lost a bit of whatever fitness I'd built up. Also I suspect I may have been a bit dehydrated having drank just a glass of water and a couple of cups of tea before heading out. I can't recall exactly when I set off a week ago, but I suspect I took on a bit more liquid then.

The result was that, despite making quite a bright start, by the time I hit the 35 minutes mark I was just going through the motions. It even occurred to me that I might stop at 40 minutes, but I suppose that some sort of ingrained keep-going-ness took over. It's similar to what gets you though a day of fasting - the simple impossibility of breaking the fast early. It's simply not a choice.

Busy Doing Nothing Again

13 Ramadhan, 1440

I've done pretty much nothing all day, and thoroughly enjoyed doing it. We wondered about going out to buy some bread to accompany the oxtail soup Noi was preparing for the evening meal, but decided not to, on the grounds that we'd have too much to eat. This was a wise decision as 1) it allowed me to do even more of nothing and 2) we've just eaten the soup without bread and there's no room for anything else at all in my stomach.

I did manage to complete Plath's Collected Poems by evening, but since I've been reading the volume since January this wasn't exactly an achievement. And, anyway, there's a good case to be made that reading poetry is just a higher form of doing nothing in a more elegant manner. I suppose that's what makes it so satisfying.

Communing

12 Ramadhan, 1440

Broke the fast for the first time this Ramadhan in company, at the Malayan Council on Bussorah Street, praying afterwards at Mesjid Sultan. Much hustle and bustle. A reminder of the essentially shared nature of the fast.

Mind you, getting through the traffic to arrive on time and finding somewhere to park did make me wonder if things don't get a little over-communal on occasion. 

No Need

11 Ramadhan, 1440

Extremely busy today. This meant that for the most part fasting was easy as there was next to no time to think about food or drink. Unfortunately this still left room for a couple of moments when, having just got important things done, I felt a need to reward myself with a nice cuppa.

But there really is no need.

On Impulse

10 Ramadhan, 1440

I'm experiencing the usual small astonishment noting the fact we're a third of the way through the fasting month. Speaking of myself, from past experience, by now it should have become a normal part of the routine, and it felt that way until 3.15 pm today, when I suddenly very much wanted to drink a cup of sugary coffee (made from one of those 3 in 1 sachets). I have no idea why this was, but I ignored the impulse and just got on with things, as one does, and the impulse disappeared, as impulses do.

I suppose it's akin to awareness of the monkey mind during meditation, the detached monitoring of thoughts and attendant awareness of how odd they often are. In this case it's the recognition of how the impulses that so often drive us and feel so much part of us are, in a sense, intruders. The powerful need for a cup of coffee came from somewhere inside, but it didn't necessarily come from whatever part of me is real.

Not So Angry

9 Ramadhan, 1440

It's difficult to get angry when fasting. Of course, you're not supposed to get angry anyway in this holy month, and if you did it would ruin the value of your fast. But a kind of fundamental lack of energy, means that anger seems even more pointless than usual. Another curious fringe benefit of the month.

On The Minus Side

8 Ramadhan, 1440

A great end to the footy season, and the Champions League Final yet to be played (after two astonishing semis) with the Mighty Reds nowhere in sight. Which is good, really, as recent sightings have been embarrassing.

One of the great things about fasting is that it takes the mind off things that shouldn't matter, but somehow do.

On The Plus Side

7 Ramadhan, 1440

I'd been intending to get to the gym all week, but it never felt right to do so, until this evening. I went after breaking the fast and, somewhat to my surprise, seemed to do well. I say seemed since I won't know if I've done any actual physical damage until tomorrow.

I don't recall having made it to the gym for the last few Ramadhans, for one reason and another, but when we were living at Still Road it was part of the routine for a couple of fasting months. I can't see any opportunity for visiting again before next Sunday with a week of committed evenings ahead, but it feels good to have at least kept in touch. It's also evidence of having made a real adjustment to the rigours of fasting. Hope this proves to be the case when I  find myself back at work tomorrow.

Others

6 Ramadhan, 1440

An easier day today on the fasting front, simply because I got to go back to bed after the Dawn Prayer and felt a good deal more rested as a result when I finally surfaced. It wasn't all fun & games though, with plenty of marking to do.

Then this evening I was watching a programme about the fasting month in Italy. This being summer time in Europe there are plenty of hours to fast. It put my own minor struggle into proportion. As did a wry cartoon Noi showed me just now. The cartoon dialogue was in Malay and went roughly like this:

Son questioning father: Why must we fast in Ramadhan?

Father answering: So we can feel what poor people feel.

Son, puzzled: You mean poor people eat buffet food at Maghrib?

Inwards

5 Ramadhan, 1440

I referred yesterday to the disorientation experienced in the early days of Ramadhan. Perhaps I might better have written of reorientation. The world is made strange in a fundamental, simple way, forcing you to see it, and yourself, through different eyes. You're reminded of what a poor, vulnerable creature you are, and of the rich variousness of the world you find yourself in, so easily available, as you only really understand when you make it temporarily unavailable.

For me these early days always seem to be about inwardness. The challenge is in taking those steps that constitute the outward journey that goes beyond self, leaving self behind.

Just Another Day

4 Ramadhan, 1440

When I was looking ahead to Ramadhan several months ago it struck me that since fasting was to begin on Monday the first week was likely to involve a particular challenge. To experience the usual disorientation and strain of fasting with no break from work, at a busy time of the year was likely to be tough - very tough indeed. And so it has proved. Today has not felt like a day of easing into adjustment; it has felt like a day of unfamiliarity, harder than the first day in its way.

Basically I crashed big-time in the afternoon, fortunately allowed to do so by a relatively easy time-table. Lucky me.

But I have been able to keep going in my way. Operating within one's severe limitations is a distinctly educational experience.

The Great Beyond

3 Ramadhan, 1440

There's at least one point in every fasting month when I find myself thinking, I can't do this. Today's came mid-morning, before I was due to teach a longish lesson, and faced quite a demanding day. As always happens I ignored the thought and just got on with it. And, lo and behold, I could do it. And I will do it, insya'allah.

At The Limit

2 Ramadhan, 1440

I got home reasonably early in the afternoon, before 4.00 pm, intending to continue on-going marking. There really wasn't any reason for me not to get on with work, and I had and have plenty of work to be getting on with, yet I just couldn't do so. Having completed prayers I crashed out big-time, surfacing only an hour and a half later. It felt inevitable, as if nothing was going to keep me awake.

I pride myself as being someone who can keep going when others simply cannot. It's useful to know with certainty just how deluded I am regarding this false picture of myself. The holy month is a wonderful time for painful self-examination. It provides an unrelentingly truthful mirror at which to gaze at one's frailties, one's essential sad limitations.

Making A Start

1 Ramadhan, 1440

18.10
Not too much more fasting for today and all is well so far. No head ache at all, which is unusual for me on the first day, but now remembering just how tired a body can feel when beginning the fast.

20.10
Isn't it odd? That final hour of the fast was a bit on the difficult side. I had a duty to do for the last twenty-five minutes or so and I needed to push myself through it. The feeling of relief on being able to drink and eat again went deeper than I expected.

One of the great lessons of the season: You may think you know something about yourself, but the self is always escaping.

22.01
Another lesson of the season: You may think one day of fasting is something, but it's only a beginning; and if its lessons, and the lessons of the full fast, are forgotten, then it's the beginning of nothing.

The Way Ahead

Fasting begins tomorrow and even though I've undertaken the fast for more than two decades now, I still need all the inspiration I can get. A fine article in today's on-line version of The Guardian provided plenty of that. Although it was focused on those whose Ramadhan takes place in London there was much to recognise and feel empathy with. And the fact that the hours of fasting here are fewer than for our brothers and sisters in the UK helped render a sense of proportion about the difficulties ahead.

In truth, this is not about difficulties but rewards, and more than ample rewards at that. Selamat Puasa! to all who'll be sharing this most precious experience.

Glimpses

Listened to a fair few bits and pieces from Britten's The Prince of the Pagodas in between marking essays. Since the ballet breaks up nicely into bite-sized bits, many around two to three minutes in length, this worked well as a mode of listening. Indeed, I don't think I've ever listened quite so closely to the individual pieces of the suite before, usually getting lost in the box of delights on offer when I've listened at length, despite my general familiarity. Brilliant orchestration, among other outstanding features.

Realised that there's just loads of Britten I've never managed to sit down and listen to. Excited by the possibilities in future when I finally get a chance to apply myself to sustained appreciation. Funnily enough, this helps me mark with a reasonable level of cheerfulness - being able to glimpse horizons and associated territories beyond, I suppose.

The Spice Of Life

In a singular world it pays to be plural.

Variations On A Theme

Got to the gym this evening, making 44 visits in the first third of the year. Not quite sure how this works out in terms of number of times per week so far, but I'm reasonably pleased at the frequency. The challenge ahead will be fasting month. I intended to keep up the exercise in the early days of Ramadhan last year, but a strained back put an end to that. Hoping for a better outcome this year, but not exactly relying on this old body overmuch.

The immediate challenge I face is putting up with the monotony of repetitive exercise in the gym. How I long to run outside again, but that's too much of a risk given the vulnerability of my back, and, in truth, I'm grateful for discovering a way of getting the old heart rate up with little risk of impact injuries. It's worked for me for around 4 years now, possibly 5. Can't remember.

To vary things I occasionally alter the resistance on the machine, lowering it from my usual top rate, and then running for longer. And tonight I discovered the joys of focusing on getting my heart rate up instead of monitoring the calories used. On most evenings the heart rate monitor isn't exactly reliable, but tonight it behaved itself and I gradually climbed to 160 before my time was up, which felt just right. After that it was just a matter of convincing myself to work on some weights for a few minutes - now another dull but worthy part of the routine - and I left feeling even more virtuous than usual.

So, a good start to May all told.